Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg'd
by StardustToRememberYouBy
Summary: He awoke to find that he was in a world he had once thought to be fictional, but now, all is very real to him. There is a reason for his presence in this place, but while wearing blinders with only one goal in mind-to love and be loved by a Queen of Narnia-there can be no other reason. Sam/Lucy, Edmund/OFC, OFC/Peter/Susan/Dean. Rated M for future chapters. Multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story has been swimming around in my head for quite some time, but it's just now coming to fruition. Be kind, please, even if you have constructive criticism. I'm expecting for there to be some kind of backlash about this, seeing as it _is_ a crossover. Still, please don't forget to review!

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A terrible kind of ringing sound echoed between Sam's ears, and as he opened his eyes and peered at the strangeness of his current surroundings, there was nothing for it except to stand to his feet and make sense of where he was, or, rather, where he had been dropped.

There was a heavy wood around him, the treetops thick with dark leaves and intermittent shadows cast along the ground. It was a lush place, to be sure, but Sam couldn't have told anyone of his whereabouts if he tried. Dean was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Castiel.

The bump on his head seemed to pound, pound, pound away within the confines of his skull and as he rose to his feet, Sam's vision suffered momentarily as he attempted to make sense of where he was.

Up ahead, he could see white...lots of white and it was solid in color against the bluest sky he had ever had the privilege of looking upon. Perhaps there was life ahead or, better yet, someone who could tell him where the hell he was...or _why_ the hell he was where he currently found himself to be.

Sam trudged ahead, stumbling a bit at first as he could feel his vertigo stabilizing after a few large-legged steps forward. The bustling of something was heard nearby, and Sam hoped that it was friend rather than foe.

He could hear a horse's whinny and, after turning a few degrees to his left, he realized that this was a true assumption. A horse and its rider were headed for him and stopped in his presence, rearing back enough so that Sam could see that it was a woman, and a lovely one at that.

She had hair like flames in color and worn long with subtle, loose braids intermittently woven beneath a crown of silver, a complimentary shade of metal for her fair complexion and dusting of freckles peppering her high cheekbones. She was slender in figure, but he could tell from the breasts down that she was a bit rounder for her figure than was probably normal for her, a sure sign that this woman was pregnant. Still, with long fingers, a sweet smile and wide, brown eyes, this woman was truly a sight for sore eyes.

"A stranger in my woods?" she poised, her voice full of spectacle and marvel. "Such has not happened for a time. What is your name, stranger?"

Sam instantly knew that this woman was royalty, though he wasn't quite sure why he knew this to be fact. "Sam is my name, Your Majesty," he greeted, bowing slightly in reverence of her station.

"You must be lost, Sam," she commented, swinging her leg over her saddle and dismounting from her horse to face up to him directly. She was a fair bit shorter than him, but seemed to be slightly taller than average for women, he thought. Her dress was regal and turquoise in shade, highlighting all of her best assets and, more decidedly, her rounding abdomen. She appeared like a character straight out of _The Lord of the Rings_, like an elf from Rivendell or the , minus the pointed ears. "None wander around these woods and not alone." Her brown eyes scanned his physique and Sam was suddenly feeling self-conscious. "What on earth are you dressed as? I have never seen trousers like those before."

She was, of course, referencing his jeans. Sam blushed a bit and straightened his clothes, swiping the dirt and leaves from their surfaces to try and make himself more presentable. "Yes, well...I was wearing them when I woke up in the dirt. I am sorry, Your Majesty. I don't look my best."

The woman smiled and shook her head faintly. "Do not fret, Sam. I am not one to judge on the appearance of others." She gestured her head down to her belly, placing a hand there gently before making eye contact with him. "Do you know my name?"

Sam thought for a moment, truly wishing that he did, in fact, know what this woman's name was. It was almost as if he already knew somewhere in the files of his mind's consortium, but it was not coming off of his tongue as easily as he wished that it would. "I'm afraid your name escapes me, Majesty."

It seemed as though she was about to explain herself, but another horse galloped into the immediate vicinity, this time bearing a man. This man had dark hair that was closer to being black than brown, was tall and slim in form, had freckles like the woman's and large brown eyes to match, but was different in all other looks. He, too, was wearing a crown of silver, and his attire was a sea-blue, a nice and notable contrast to the woman's.

"My lady," the man said, accented in a British tone just as the woman was, "who is this stranger?" He dismounted his horse quickly and drew his sword as if to defend her. "Tell me who you are and what your business is with her, or I'll - "

"My lord!" the woman said, rushing to the man's side and physically staying his arm as she leaned over his shoulder. "This young man was just telling me that his name is Sam. He is lost in the wood and is misdressed. Perhaps we can accommodate him? Surely the castle has clothes that will fit him, however gargantuan he is in size."

The man listened to the woman, appearing to be softened by her very presence. It became apparent to Sam that these two were married, noting the matching rings of gold on their left hands.

"Very well," he said in agreement, turning his gaze to Sam. "My wife has made a fair point. I extend apologies for my brutish behavior, sir. My brother and I returned from war not two days ago and I still have not adjusted to more civilized conversation."

Sam bowed a bit to the man, nodding. "Apology accepted, Your Majesty."

The man turned to his wife and smiled gently. "Shall we?"

"Indeed," his wife said, accepting assistance from her husband in mounting her horse. Soon, they were on their way towards the large mass of white that Sam had seen earlier. He followed them as they walked beside him, their horses slow to keep up the pace with him. "Really, Sam, we _must_ get you a new set of clothes."

The man laughed aloud, a deep, hearty laugh. "If you are to appear in my court, you will _not_ be dressed in that wardrobe."

Sam didn't take offense to their words. He was feeling massively underdressed and didn't like the fact that he stood out enough for them to make comments about. They were royalty and he was in their land, for whatever reason, so he knew he must abide by their rules.

While he couldn't understand the reason for being in this place, it was a well-known fact that he had been in situations far less pleasant than stumbling across two royals in a thick wood without rhyme or reason. He accepted his current stance and decided that he would need answers down the road, but not just now. For now, he was marveling in the magnificence of the open-air castle he found himself entering. It was then that his first and most blatant clue emerged, hoof-clodden and all.

Fauns. Driads. Naiads. Gnomes. Dwarfs. Minotaurs. Gryphons. All sorts of fantastical creatures were skipping about in the courtyard of this castle, all clad in leaves and the attire one would fully expect from a multitude of folks bathed in mystical existence. Sam was instantly in awe of this place. It was full of creatures that he had only ever read about in books as a kid, and here they were, in the flesh, breathing and smiling at him and making him feel more welcome in this place than he had felt in any place in a very long time.

The king and queen were met by folks who assisted them off of their horses before taking the creatures to the stables and allowing the married couple to befriend the large man they had found in the wood.

"This is as much your home now as it is ours," the woman offered sweetly, and Sam flashed her a smile. "Now, where is Peter?"

_Peter_..._no...it can't be. The woman here, the ginger...no...and the man...yes...yes! It __must____ be! I'm in Narnia!_ Sam knew where he was and, forgetting the reason _why_ he was there, he bowed before the queen once again.

"Your Majesty," he said, taking her hand politely into his own, "you are Queen Anne the Faithful." He pressed his lips to her knuckles before bowing before her husband. "You are King Edmund the Just. I'm sorry I did not recognize this sooner."

Anne smiled at him. "Rise, Sam. It is forgiven."

Edmund nodded in agreement and brightened his expression at the sight of a woman nearing. "Ah, Lucy!" he beckoned, raising a finger to get her attention.

Sam stood, quickly turning to face the younger Queen and solidify his presence in a land he had read about but never experienced. It was then that his heart skipped a beat.

The beauty of Queen Lucy could not be overstated. She was absolutely breathtaking, a goddess in a lithe body. Her chestnut-colored locks were long and wavy with a slightly bushy attribute to them, but she wore them well. Her crown was a combination of gold and silver, more than likely a divider between the High King and Queen, the next level down of Edmund and Anne, and then herself. It was more like a tiara, but was etched with leaves that shimmered like the sun in her beryl hues. Her nose was cute and button-like and lined perfectly with supple lips stretched over pearly teeth. Sam was entranced by her striking appearance and, with a shaky hand, he bowed to take her own.

Lucy took his hand, but instead pulled him back up until he was straightened, outstretching her hand to shake his instead. "Oh, you shake it," she instructed and he grinned before obliging. "Finally, someone around here knows how to shake a hand."

"I've shaken many hands in my life, my lady," Sam reassured her, earning him a laugh from her that made his skin flutter.

"What is it, brother?" Lucy questioned, turning her attention back to Edmund.

"Have you seen Peter around? We are sure that he would have some clothes for this young man to wear, but we are unsure of his whereabouts."

Lucy shrugged lightly. "The last I saw of him, he was in court trying to woo Sylfaen into joining him for the dinner feast, but she was having none of it. I could take him to the robe-makers and have them whip something up for him, if that is fine."

Edmund nodded once, pertly. "Of course. Give him a tour of the castle as well, if you don't mind."

Lucy curtsied reverently and stalked off, scooping her arm towards her own body as if to tell Sam to follow her, and follow her he did.

Sam was beyond mesmerized by this place and all of its beauty, especially that of its female counterparts. Why, then, was he here? Wasn't Narnia a fiction created by the late and great C.S. Lewis as allegories for children? How was he here and to what end?


	2. Chapter 2

Lucy was quick to show him around the castle grounds as she led him towards their tailor. Sam couldn't focus on her voice, however, as her very existence was making his heart soften and his head reel with questions.

So many things were happening all at once, even though to think about them too deeply would probably result in keeling over. He had so many questions as to why he was in a world he had only ever thought to be fictional, but it was _real_ and everything in it was _alive_. Furthermore, Queen Lucy was quickly garnering his affections.

"...and this is the east wing," Lucy was saying when Sam's mind cleared and his focus gained its attention span. "Here is where all of the bedchambers are found, including the chamber that is a guest room of sorts. Undoubtedly, this is where we will place you."

Sam managed to smile at her in gratitude. "I would appreciate it," he said, hoping that his voice wasn't as feeble as he thought it would be.

Lucy slowed her pace a bit so that she could walk beside him. "How long do you plan on staying with us?"

He honestly couldn't answer that question with something that wouldn't bother him either way, so he remained silent, his response leaving her feeling a bit empty at the situation.

The young queen cleared her throat and stepped up again, livening her pace once again as she rounded a corner into a room they hadn't been in before.

"Oh, sir," Lucy said to the man whose back was currently to them. "I was looking for Alpin, our tailor. When will he return?"

Sam entered the room behind her to see a familiar sight, even though he couldn't let on that he knew the man before them.

"Alpin will be back shortly, mi'lady," Castiel said as he turned around, his body decked out in garb similar to that of the other Narnians. "I am Castiel, his apprentice. What can I assist you with?"

Lucy gestured to Sam, tugging him forward until they were side-by-side. "This is Sam. He is our guest here, but he requires new attire that is more suitable to our courts. Please see that he gets it."

"I will do this promptly, mi'lady."

"And give your master my best!" with a fond wave, the young queen skipped out of the room, calling, "See you at supper, Sam!" over her shoulder.

Sam approached Castiel with an urgent fervency. "Cas, what the _hell_?" he questioned. "Why am I here?"

Castiel sighed. "It's...complicated."

"_Tell_ me."

The angel nodded after a moment. "You are here to heal."

"Heal? How can this place help me heal, and heal from _what_?"

"This place...it's good for your _soul_, Sam. You _need_ to rest, and this place will get you back to where you need to be."

Sam understood this. He knew that his condition was not one to be trifled with, though the adjustment would prove to be interesting. Still, how could he resist this and demand to return to the real world when his inner child was fanboying and begging for him to stay?

"I'll stay, Cas, alright? Wasn't there an easier way for me to heal, though?"

"Actually, this was all Dean's idea. I told him perhaps some aromatherapy and prayer would help, but he insisted once I told him I could make this happen. This is a beautiful place, Sam."

Sam nodded, watching the setting sun cast beams of beauty against the lush scene just outside of the open frame in place of a window. "It _is_ beautiful."

Of course, he had a double-meaning to such a word. He did mean that the landscape and all that he had seen so far was beautiful, but mainly he was focused on a young queen who had enraptured him.

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"Where _is_ our guest, Lu?" Peter questioned, taking his seat at the end of their long dining table. The fire behind him blazed against the shadows and interspersed beams of light casting about the floor and walls of their meeting hall. His solid gold crown had both breadth and intricacy and was, by far, the most lavish of all five crowns.

Lucy was waiting impatiently at the table, though her spirit had tamed since the presence of the High King was always one to placate her. Peter didn't approve of her bouncing around and flittering to and fro, and tonight, he would be even less accommodating, given that his request for Sylfaen, the fairest Driad in all of the Western Wood, had declined his wishes for her to join them at their feast. She knew that this would set her brother into a terrible rage if brought up, but perhaps the presence of a guest would soothe him.

"He should be here at any moment," she stated reassuringly, more for herself than for the High King.

"Perhaps he has lost his way," Anne suggested, scooting her chair back a bit from the edge of the table to make room for her belly. She turned to her husband who sat beside her and placed a hand on his arm. "Edmund, dearest, do you think you could go and locate him? I'm _sure_ he is lost again."

Edmund glanced over his wife and, sensing that her concern was genuine, he nodded and kissed the hand of hers that lay upon his arm. "Yes, my dear," he answered. "I will find him." As he rose from his seat to go and find Sam, however, his older brother stopped him with his voice.

"Sit down, Edmund," Peter's voice boomed, practically reverberating off of the stone walls.

Susan, whose place was at the other end of the table, peered across towards Peter with a gentle kind of plea. "Peter, please," she muttered. "Perhaps Anne is right. If he is lost - "

" - he will find his way." Peter had interrupted her, something that earned a stern look from Susan.

Lucy's leg was restless beneath the table, bouncing impatiently. She was just about to tell Peter off and go find Sam herself when Sam entered the room, his appearance much more Narnian but still flustered.

"My apologies, Majesties," Sam introduced, directing such a statement at the High King more than the others. The entire room was swept with relief, mostly on Lucy's end, though, as her leg ceased its bounciness and a smile stretched across her lips. "These corridors are much longer than I'd thought."

Anne chuckled and settled back into her chair. "You will adjust to it," she confirmed, her husband nodding in agreement.

"Your seat is next to Queen Lucy," Peter instructed, straightening his stature and flickering his eyes to glance at Susan. She was making a face at him as if to tell him to behave, and he would, certainly, try to.

Sam bowed in response before taking his stride to sit next to the young queen. The instant he was once again in her presence, he could feel his skin undulate with a tingling he hadn't felt since...well, since...

"You are dressed much more appropriately now," Lucy whispered to him, a sly smirk now playing on her face.

Sam smiled in return. "Your tailors are _very_ talented here, Your Majesty."

"Edmund and I were just admiring your attire, Sam," Anne called to him from across the table. "How much more like a Narnian you appear to be in this accoutrement."

"You _must_ be feeling more at-home in these clothes than the others," Edmund suggested as several Fauns entered the room and brought platters of food with them. "How dreadfully stuffy they were, yes?"

Sam was not about to admit to them of the wonders that denim could do in outlasting many other materials of clothing, and he admitted to himself that these were comfortable, so perhaps a compromise was in order. "They were stuffy, Your Majesty, yes. This material seems to breathe with me."

"Clothing here should be comfortable and reflect one's station," Susan commented, watching as a Naiad filled her goblet with spiced rum. "What station are you, Sam?"

Lucy swallowed her current mouthful of her drink before she spoke for her guest. "He is our _guest_, Susan. Station is not important for a guest." Sam was grateful for her words.

"On the contrary, dear sister. As you can see, our stations are _quite_ important, so _all_ stations are of _some_ importance. Where do you hail from?"

Sam thought for a moment, his inner fanboy pulling out the image of a Narnian map so seared into his memory that it had been filed away. Luckily, he could absolutely recall it and could now use it to his advantage. "I was born on the Isle of Galma, Your Highness, but was raised in a small encampment just south of Anvard."

"Archenland?" Peter chimed in, his mouth half-full of mutton. "You hail from there?"

Sam was about to get more into his homespun tale and shook his head, signalling his fanboy to take over for a moment. "Actually, Majesty, I suppose I hail more from Stormness Head than from Anvard itself. I found myself more at home on the mountains and moors."

Lucy smirked, knowing that this would fare well with her brother, a man who was so well-traveled in their world that he knew it like he knew so well the freckles on Susan's fair skin.

"'Tis a dangerous life on the moors," Peter admitted, taking another bite of his meat.

Sam nodded in agreement. "Aye, Majesty."

"What did you do in Archenland?" Anne questioned, wanting to know further so as to quell her boiling curiosity.

"My father was a pirate and a marauder." Anne seemed impressed by this and Edmund made sure that his current bite of food had been swallowed before he joined in.

"My brother and I put to death many pirates these past few seasons," he stated as a fact, his voice rife with a bit of regret that Sam could easily sense. "I do hope your father was not one of them."

"If he was, so be it," Peter gruffed, downing a bit of his drink. All eyes from the others turned to him. "Pirates and pillagers know of our laws. The instant they set food on our shores, they _know_ of the risks associated with that position."

"Peter..." Susan mumbled, shooting him a look that said he was treading on thin ice.

"How dreadful a thing to say!" Anne piped up.

"I agree, brother. Sam is our guest and to talk to him as such is _not_ a positive thing to reaffirm your authority, if anything - "

"Silence, Edmund - I will speak my mind as I hear it."

"Your heart may be wounded by a woman who cannot return your advances, but that does not justify the spurning of our guest," Lucy courageously affirmed.

Peter's face fell, a look of gloom overtaking the once-stoic King. "Sylfaen's absence does _not_ have anything to do with - "

"_Doesn't_ it? Peter, we know you are infatuated with her, but be a man about it instead of the frightened weasel you turn into after rejection stings your pride!"

The room was silent following the young queen's words. Known only to Sam at the moment, his story had been false, though the High King's behavior was entirely unacceptable either way. Peter pushed himself back from the table and threw his plate to the ground, the clanging sound echoing as he stormed from the room in a flurry of rage.

Susan was the first to respond, wiping her mouth on a cloth as she stood from the table, her sandals shifting against the stone as she scurried after her brother.

Anne's gaze fell over Sam, a sympathetic look on her lovely features. "Susan will bring him back to his senses - I am _sure_ of it," she stated confidently.

Edmund released a sigh. "Well, Sam, I have lost my appetite. Allow me to show you to your chamber."

Sam was all too eager to oblige.

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The glisten of the sea and the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore were evident in Sam's chamber. This room was far bigger than he had anticipated, and the bed was at least king-sized, if not bigger. The size itself was unconventional and the wardrobe in it was small, just enough to hold a few different outfits of varying materials. His bare feet against the stone was a cooling sensation and the salty sea air filled his lungs and made him thankful for the simplicity of this place.

A small knock on his door forced him away from his pacing about the room. Shuffling towards the door, he lifted the latch and pulled the door to an opened position, surprised to see Lucy standing on the other side.

"Your Majesty," he greeted, noting how lovely she looked in the moonlight and the shadow from the candleabra she was holding. Through the darkness, he could see she was dressed in a simple lace nightgown, a dressing gown of velvet over it to keep her toasty.

"I came to speak with you," she whispered. "May I...?"

"Absolutely," Sam said, opening the door and gesturing for her to enter the room. She did so with grace, and Sam was quick to latch the door behind them. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Lucy placed the candleabra on a small table by his bedside before turning to him. "I could not leave behind what Peter so harshly said to you over the table."

"My lady, he was a scorned man. I don't want to judge him for his condition."

"It was an unacceptable thing to do to a guest, let alone as High King. He made a fool out of himself in the worst possible way, though I know he will never apologize to you for it, so _I_ must in his stead."

Sam was struck by her sincerity and the fact that she was clearly so perturbed that her brother had reacted so violently. He shook his head, his facial expression conveying gratitude but sympathy. "Your Majesty, he is a man with feelings. A man like that needs to vent somehow. Your brother just used me, and I'm fine with that."

Lucy nodded after a moment of hesitation, stepping away from him and towards the open wall on the other side. "Have you ever been scorned by a lover, Sam?"

The answer to her question was no, of course, but he had lost two lovers for whom he had cared very deeply, so her words rang true in some ways. "Never, Majesty. But I have experienced loss."

Lucy's back was now to him, her silhouette against the moonlight causing his heart to shudder as he noticed her dressing gown was trailing ever so slightly on the stone behind her bare-footed persona. "As have I," she admitted under her breath, not at all referring to anyone Sam was aware of. "How silly of me to question that of you. I barely know you. You are as a stranger to me."

"And, yet, here you stand in my bedchambers late in the night."

Lucy knew that he was right. She had come here on an impulse and was now looking for any excuse to stay, to linger and spend more time with this tall, handsome, intriguing stranger. She sat down on the stony sill, eyes casting out over the darkness of the sea. Sam felt compelled to join her, sitting beside her on the stone.

"Do you enjoy the sea, Sam?" she questioned, eyelids fluttering closed as she inhaled and exhaled the briny air.

"I prefer land, my lady," he said softly, dusting off the stone under his thigh. "The sea is unpredictable and dangerous...honestly, thinking about it too much scares me."

"Not me." She opened her eyes and turned her head to gaze at him. "The sea makes me feel as though I can do anything. It stabilizes me and fills me with questions that I know will never be answered. It's a challenge and a thrill...it holds everything that my life could never amount to beneath the waves. The sea is liberty, it is trust, it is misunderstood." She stopped after the last word, her eyes falling to her lap where she kindly folded her hands.

Sam looked over her, filled with a sudden pang of sadness for the emptiness inside of the lively and breathtaking woman so near. He paused for a moment, hoping that his next statement was not too bold. "Do you find that _you_ are misunderstood, my lady?"

Lucy's beryl eyes returned his look, a gentleness washing over her features. "I do sometimes, Sam. I am a Queen of Narnia, so there are many traits I must adhere to. Sometimes, all I want is freedom and to be respected for who I am and not for my title. I feel as though Peter expects so much of me...but I am young. I cannot be who he wants me to be."

"Don't change yourself to please your brother, especially if it makes you miserable." He snickered. "I know about that all-too-well." Pausing to let his words sink in, he searched for the right thing to say so as not to over-step his bounds. "Your Majesty - "

"Lucy," she interjected immediately.

Sam smiled gently. "Lucy," he corrected, "you are a Daughter of Eve and have more than earned your queenship. You are...you bring light to your kingdom and peace to the hearts of those who are wounded."

"Are _you_ wounded, Sam?"

"Not in your presence, thankfully."

Lucy turned her gaze away, a slight heat filling the skin underneath her cheeks. She was blushing because of a man who invested in her as a person, not in her crown. It was then that she suddenly understood the deep love her brother had for Anne, spousal and otherwise, and she could see herself falling in love with the man next to her. That, above all, frightened her and she rose instantaneously, clearing her throat.

"It is late," she announced, crossing the stone quickly and grabbing her candleabra. "I must return to my own chambers."

"Lucy, I didn't mean to cross any boundaries."

Lucy glanced at him as her hand settled on the latch. "On the contrary. You have opened my eyes and made me feel...wanted." She smiled at him sweetly before opening the latch and slipping out the door, leaving a bewildered Sam in her wake.


	3. Chapter 3

"Good morning, Sam!"

Sam raised a hand flat over his eyes to shield them from the garish light of the sun beating down on the Narnian grass beneath his feet. He greeted the ginger queen with a wave of his hand and made his way over to her. She was busy instructing a few Dryads on where to hang banners of lovely flowers.

"What's the occasion, my lady?" he asked.

Queen Anne sighed proudly at her work, stroking her belly softly and propping the other hand at the small of her back. "We have nobility coming to visit within the next couple of days and, in four days' time, we are to have a ball," she explained.

"A ball?"

"Indeed. It will be a grand gesture to our visiting principalities and may even spark up some friendly conversation between aspiring lovers."

Of course, Sam knew that she was not referring to himself and Lucy, but he was still curious. "Aspiring lovers, my lady?"

Anne nodded, gesturing for him to take a walk with her. "Aye. It has been a grim affair in the past, but I have sworn to myself - and to my husband, naturally - that we must liven the ordeal. It can be terribly dreadful, but I want to stay positive, mostly for my plus-two."

Sam could understand that entirely. He had read many times before that pregnant women must be kept happy. "What has been grim?"

"Suitors will be coming from other lands, seeking to wed one of our fair and yet-unwed queens."

Sam's heart sunk. He recalled, when reading the books, that such things had taken place, but he was, as of yet, unsure of their outcome and knew that this would not be taken lightly. "Suitors for _both_ of them?"

Anne nodded. "Aye. Of course, as Susan is of age and Lucy is not quite there yet, she has thrice as many offers. She will deny them all staunchly, as she always does, and that will once again put the High King at rest."

"Why would that put him to rest, Majesty, if I can ask that?"

Anne smiled up at the man beside her. "You may ask me _any_ question you would like to. Rumors fly - you know how gossip can be and how quickly it infects a populace. Peter disapproves of all of Susan's suitors before they have even arrived at the Cair." She paused, taking note of Sam's expression. "I know. He does not see any of them as worthy of her."

"Then why ask them to come and propose offers?"

"I _knew_ you were a clever one. Think about it, Sam. Why would a brother demand that suitors make themselves known in grand gestures and then deny them their claim on multiple occasions? Why press the issue?"

_Because he's in love with her_. Sam's own thoughts startled him. It _couldn't_ be true, not about two characters he had been fond of since early childhood. Incest in Narnia, one of the most allegorical children's stories of all-time? Peter and Susan. Susan and Peter. They were a _thing_? There were feelings? All of this was almost too much for him to ponder.

His expression must have given him away, as the Queen beside him nodded and sighed, turning a solemn look forward. "They would deny it to their graves if affronted with the question directly, but it is a true and cruel thing."

"How long have they been like this?"

Anne was silent for a moment before answering him. "They have been like this for as long as I can recall. Of course, being in positions of absolute power have gone to their heads, in that respect, and have broken some hearts along the way. Peter has been attempting to court a young wood-nymph named Sylfaen for a long time now, but she has not accepted him because of the rumors surrounding his relationship with his sister. Susan, on the other side, has had multiple, grand offers from Rabadash - "

"Rabadash? That cod."

Anne snickered at his phrasing. "He is indeed, but he truly feels for Susan. Peter despises the man terribly, but Susan indulges in the sweetness he brings with each visit as it is romantic gestures from a man who is not her brother."

"Have they acted on their feelings?"

"Most assuredly, yes, though they hide it well. The rumors have been circulating since we ascended our thrones, so I assume that they thought, why deny themselves the pleasures to which they are already accused?"

Sam thought long and hard before speaking again, hoping that this question was not going to overstep any boundaries or make the Queen uncomfortable. "Majesty...what of the High King's protection of Queen Lucy?"

"That is merely an older brother looking out for his baby sister. There is nothing to worry about, if you intend on approaching him to request becoming a formal suitor for her, if that is your intention."

Sam stopped short in his tracks at her words. The thought had not crossed his mind prior to her putting the idea there. A few steps later, Anne noticed that he was no longer beside her and she stopped, turning to face him.

"I have offended you, haven't I?" Her face fell.

"No, my Queen," Sam assured her. "I just...I hadn't thought about Queen Lucy like that before you spoke." That was, honestly, a bold-faced lie. He had been up for half of the night thinking of Lucy and of what it would be like to hold her.

Anne smiled softly. "I see the way you look at her. It is the same as when King Edmund looks at me, I am told. I also see the way in which _she_ looks at _you_." Sam's eyes widened. "Have you not noticed?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Well, I _have_. As a married woman and a mother of one, soon to be two, I know of such things. Or...perhaps I am wrong? Perhaps the look you give her is something else entirely."

Sam paused for a moment, truly feeling a friendly connection to this woman, though fictional as he thought her to be. "No, my Queen...you are _not_ wrong."

Anne smiled brightly. "I understand that you have only just met, but these things do not always take time to blossom."

He laughed slightly at her words, knowing exactly what she meant. Cas had said that he was here to heal, and, so far, he was still feeling the flames inching up underneath his skin on occasion. He hadn't, however, felt them when he was with Lucy. Maybe it was just because he hadn't been with someone in so long. Maybe it was because his inner child was begging for him to indulge in a fantasy crush. Maybe it was just this place, just his presence in Narnia that made him attach himself to Lucy so quickly.

Whatever it was, he knew that it was real. He was really here, he was really talking to a beautiful, fictional pregnant woman, and he was having very real thoughts and feelings about another beautiful, fictional woman, though, this time, not pregant.

Lucy was young, that was for sure, but she was at least eighteen at this point, which meant that they only had about eight more years left in Narnia.

Sam had lost Jessica. He had lost Madison. He _had_ Lucy, right here, and he was _not_ about to let her get away. Not when he had a say in it this time.

"It's too fast, my lady," Sam confessed after a brief silence.

Anne shrugged her shoulders lightly. "Perhaps it is, but trust me when I say that if it is real, do not let it slip away. You _will_ regret it."

He thought through her words, realizing that she was absolutely correct. He wanted to go for it, wanted to sweep Lucy off of her feet. Still, he knew it was fast, and, without solid evidence that she was feeling the same about him, it would have to suffice for now that patience would be both a calling and a virtue.

**::::**

Sam returned to his chambers to change before supper that evening and was almost too surprised to see Castiel standing by his window.

"Jesus, Cas," he breathed, shutting the door behind himself. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

"How was your walk with the Queen?" Castiel asked.

Sam sighed. "How'd you know about that?"

"Those things that she said - did they shock you?"

"Yes, they did...why?"

"Because I coerced her to say them."

Sam felt like storming across the room and throttling the angel, but he refrained, rubbing his temples. "Why in the hell would you do that? I thought she trusted me. I thought she was telling me of her own choice."

"Well, she wasn't. You believed that she would confess incestual happenings between her brother-in-law and her sister-in-law to a man who is nothing but a stranger?"

"Why did you do it, Cas?"

"You need to heal, Sam, and to do that, you have to fit in with these people. They have to know that you can be trusted."

"That's not what trust is. Trust is something that has to be earned."

Cas gave him an expression of confusion. "Oh. I believe I misunderstood your brother's definition."

"_Clearly_."

Sam paced, crossing his arms as his sights fixated on a vision strolling the beach. It was Lucy, and she looked more regal than ever. She was so beautiful, even from afar, and Sam longed to be next to her, to hold her hand and hear her thoughts.

"She's a pretty girl," Castiel commented, taking notice of the Queen as well.

Sam sighed, moving over to the wardrobe to physically separate himself from the sight of her. "She's _more_ than that, Cas."

"Then I was absolutely right in sending you here."

When Sam turned around to tell Cas that he was not ready to have his heart broken again, Cas was gone, and Sam swiftly decided to skip supper. He had too much to think about to confront the beautiful Queen or to even lay eyes on the High King and High Queen now-knowing what he knew.

**::::**

Lucy sat all throughout supper merely picking her fork at her food. Without Sam's presence at the table, she found herself to be at a loss for words and appetite. Her sister-in-law and brother were chatting away about the events of their day, given that they hadn't seen each other since sun-up. Edmund and Peter had gone out to check the garrisons along the walls of the castle in case the threat of invasion should occur when the suitors announced themselves the following day.

Her thoughts were consumed by the absence of the handsome stranger she had so longed to see. With every being entering and exiting the dining hall, Lucy's heart leaped at the thrill that each footfall could belong to him, but each time, she was wrong.

Naturally, she assumed that Sam's absence was an avoidance of Peter after what had happened at supper the previous evening. God forbid he was avoiding _her_, a notion her one-track mind failed to pick up on. No matter the reason, however, she felt compelled to explain herself to him, and aimed to do so after dinner.

Of course, as she headed down the corridor towards Sam's chambers, she could hear the echo of footsteps behind her.

"Lucy, wait," the male voice pleaded, a voice belonging to Peter.

Lucy stopped in her tracks and wheeled around to face him. "If you are intending to apologize, do so to Sam," she instructed.

Peter sighed, his eyes conveying a sincerity that Lucy had long-since forgotten. "I am here to say that I am truly sorry for how I spoke to Sam last night. I know that you consider him to be a friend and, yes, I was bitter."

"_More_ than bitter, I would say."

"You are correct. I was downright terrible to him when I should not have been. If you want to invite him to things and befriend him, I approve."

Lucy wrung her hands together behind her back, biting back from telling her brother what her real intentions with Sam were, but she refrained, keeping her head held high. "I appreciate it, brother. I do. I will extend your apologies to Sam himself." Turning on her heels, she glided down the corridor and made her way to Sam's room, the shadows of nightfall cloaking her trek.

His door straight ahead, Lucy could feel her heart pound. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, mustering up the courage to knock, but based on the silence from the other side of the door, she held back, instead stepping directly up to the door and placing her palm flat against it.

"Sam?" she said, her voice lowly and meaningful. "Are you in there?" He was, and, in fact, he was on the other side of the door, his hand on the latch, fully-prepared to open the door and speak to her face-to-face. "I'm unsure if you can hear me or not...or even if you are awake. I..._we_ missed you at the dinner table tonight. We ate amid too much silence, so I barely ate at all. I kept hoping that you would arrive...but you did not and I found myself missing your company." Sam's eyes fluttered closed at the sound of her voice, placing his hand flat against the door as well, directly over the place where Lucy had placed hers.

"Peter is sorry for how awfully he spoke to you last night. I told him that I would tell you. I...I want you to know that a few suitors will be arriving to offer themselves to me tomorrow and on subsequent days. I did not ask the approval of my brother, but..." Here, Sam could hear her pause deliberately and take a deep breath before she spoke again. "I would like for _you_ to be one such suitor...if you would accept that, of course. I do not wish to pressure you, especially since we know nothing of the other, but...I would feel much more at ease knowing that you were among the mix." Lucy sighed and Sam leaned his forehead against the door, almost as if he was attempting to inhale her breath. "I do not even know if you can hear me or not. I must rest now. I will see you tomorrow, and, if not, I will understand."

Lucy stopped speaking, her once quick heartbeat now slowing to a much more manageable pace. She pressed her palm a bit harder against the wood of the door, almost like she wanted to leave her mark before she departed down the corridor.

If asked later, Sam would have denied it, but Lucy could've sworn that she heard his door unlatch and that she could feel his eyes watching her as she disappeared down the hallway.


End file.
